


The Affair of Dumbledore and Grindelwald

by MillieL



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Dumbledore/Grindelwald through time, M/M, break ups, time skipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-24 16:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20361469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MillieL/pseuds/MillieL
Summary: An account of how Albus’ and Gellert’s relationship develops from the death of Ariana Dumbledore to Grindelwald’s defeat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written. Please be kind 😁 I know my story isn’t the best at the moment, so please comment and give constructive criticism. 
> 
> Warning: This fic is m/m so if you don’t like that don’t read it, but you have been warned, so please don’t leave shitty comments just because you couldn’t be bothered to read this. 
> 
> The characters and parts of the plot all belong to J.K.Rowling and I am not making any money from this and it’s literally just a hobby. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy 😊!

Fluffy snowflakes floated in the breeze, impervious to the events occurring in the small cul-de-sac. The sitting room was illuminated by dim light pouring through the window. 

Albus Dumbledore sobbed over Ariana’s lithe form, a shaking hand brushing the hair from her face; Grindelwald stood in the doorway watching him with an expression terrifyingly devoid of emotion. Aberforth was sobbing furiously on the carpet. Albus wished someone would say something. Anything at all to break this cold silence, it was as if death had decided to stay and watch the embers of another life extinguished. 

Aberforth slowly got up from where the Dumbledore brothers had collapsed beside Ariana. “This is your fault Albus, you and your foreign little master...always going on about the greater good…” His body shook with emotion, “but what about our greater good, mine and Ariana’s? If you ever once thought about us she’d...she’d still be alive!

“We’ve always been a fucking chore to you haven’t we! You must hate it, your own family holding back The Great Albus Dumbledore! Well it looks like you finally got your wish! Our sister’s dead and I...I sure as hell don’t want anything to do with you…” Aberforth roared, towering over his older brother, fists shaking. Albus looked up at the boy in front of him, enduring the onslaught through silent tears, knowing that he deserved it.

His mind helplessly compared the child he had played exploding snap with and traded chocolate frog cards with, to this devastated teenager before him. He wondered where those two brothers had gone. 

“What’s wrong? You have what you’ve always secretly wanted! Go! You’re free! Go!” 

Gelert finally intervened, “Don’t speak to him like that!” He replied with equal fervor. “Your brother doesn’t deserve to deal with your hysterical temper tantrum over a magical cripple!” 

Aberforth and Albus stared in silence at the tall frost haired young man who had drawn his wand. 

Finally, Aberforth screamed, “Get out, both of you!” When neither moved he leant down and viciously threw Albus’ hand from their sister’s forehead. “You don’t get to touch her! Get out! OUT!”

As Albus looked back at the remains of his broken family, he wondered how he had never even seen the cracks.

Once the two young men had passed through the garden gate, onto the empty street shrouded in seasonal fog, he broke down where he stood. Bulbous tears burned their way down his cheeks and his heart felt as though it had been torn apart. 

He felt Gellert wrap his warm arms around his shaking chest. “You shouldn’t cry, Al. One day he’ll realise that it was all for the greater good.” Something about the way Gellert said the phrase that had been driving them for the past few years unnerved him. And he was reminded of how his lover had spoken of his sister only moments ago. 

He pushed away from Gellert’s embrace, feeling unnerved and cold. “How could you say that about Ariana?” 

“It was true. She was weak to let herself be damaged like that.” Gellert shrugged callously. He was unashamed of his views. Even if Albus disagreed with his Dictatorial fascist opinions on the damaged and impure, at least they both knew that the Muggles had to be dealt with. 

Gellert had tried so hard to be good. He had tried so hard to keep his charismatic mask on. He managed with most people, he had managed with Albus until the other boy had somehow managed to worm his way into Gellert’s dead heart. That was when he had started to desire to cast his bespoke mask aside. He wanted to see if Albus still felt the same way about him once he saw the cruelty that ran through him, parallel to his veins.

He had been slipping these past months, growing complacent in the enigma that was Albus Dumbledore. But now he could see, once that mask slipped off fully, his friend would see his naked soul and recoil in disgust. Albus would leave him to accomplish their goals on his own. 

He heard Albus’ question echo in his ears again and again and again and again…

Sound felt distorted and distant, out of time with his lips and the world around him. 

“I think it’s best we went our separate ways, my friend.” Silence. 

And then after a small eternity, a small voice in the deep midwinter asked “why?”

The smallest word could shatter a heart, who knew? Gellert had never even felt love’s toxic tentacles thread themselves through his very fabric. Perhaps this was for the best then, the very thought of someone being so vital...terrified him.

Better to leave Albus before he leaves Gellert. Better to break than be broken. 

“We’ve changed too much, Al. Would you really stand with me as I give the orders to kill all squibs and mudbloods and freaks of magic?”

“B-“

“You agreed with my ideals before. Has The Great Albus Dumbledore become one of the proletarian sheep, one of those naive idealistic light do-gooders? But that’s your problem, isn’t it? You agree to everything in theory, as long as you don’t think it will affect your life. All Muggles should be destroyed. Except for the ones that make sweets. Of course all of the Muggleborns are inferior. Except for the ones I like. Squib-like mutations of magic should be put down. Oh how I love my sister. Do you see why it would be better to part and go our separate ways? I know you and I know you see me for what I am, but let’s be honest Al, you ignore all the parts of me that you don’t like. Someday soon those rose-tinted spectacles you view me through will shatter and force you to see things you won’t like. What’s the point in staying together when sooner or later you will end up resenting me for it.” Gellert was almost panting by the time he reached the end of his tirade.

He sighed mist and bent down slightly brushing his icy fingers along Albus’ temple, smoothing back his hair and trailing them down to his chapped lips. Gellert slowly leaned in and placed his lips where his fingers had been. After a moment of absorbing Albus’ warmth he pulled away and with his back turned, walked into the fog’s embrace. 

Albus stood there in silence for what seemed like hours until the cold had numbed his bones to the core. He wondered if it would ever leave him again. Albus doubted it would, the cold had seeped into him, invading his very being through the cracks Aberforth, Ariana and Gellert had left in him. With a pop he left Godric’s Hollow for what would be for many years.


	2. A Job Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus decides to go back to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I haven’t updated in a while. The schedule is kind of random at the moment so don’t expect much. Scratch that, there is no schedule. 
> 
> Anyway thanks for the support on the first chapter, it meant a lot! 😊  
This is a series, there are more chapters to come (if I stop being lazy), so stick around!

A decade later, Albus slowly walked up the path from the Games Keeper’s hut. He always enjoyed Robert Gallinger’s company. The man was a Hufflepuff through and through, and he’d always had time for Albus, even though he had been three years older. Rob was like an older brother, and he’d often expressed his frustrations at the shortsightedness of his own blood in Albus’ earshot. The fact that they shared the same half-blood status only encouraged their closeness.

Rob’s love of creatures and proficiency in magical and non-magical handy work had practically guaranteed him his position. In fact, it was Rob who mentioned that the newest headmaster of Hogwarts, Armando Dippet, was in need of a Transfiguration Professor. It was he who so slyly brought up Albus’s latest paper on: The Lesser-Known Transfiguration Processes of Arithmancy, at the head table one night. It seemed his old friend had developed a rather Slytherin side to him. It was strange how far the lines blurred in adulthood, what once would have invoked distrust and suspicion, now only made him shake his head in amusement; on a tangent of thought he contemplated how his former classmates would be sorted today, certainly a few changes, Albus thought.

Albus had thanked his old friend just this morning, and now the hour of his interview for the transfiguration position was upon him. As he walked through the grounds that he had called a second home in his youth, Albus debated his introduction to the headmaster; would he start with explaining he was a Hogwarts alumnus or his involvement on the political scene? Every turn of phrase mattered; if he wanted to get the job of his dreams he would have to take on the right personna to endear himself to his potential employer. Before Albus could even finish his thought, his brain was already scripting a series of varying answers and sorting them into the bank of his personas. 

It was Mid-August chilling gradually to September and the trees that made up the Forbidden Forest, in the distance, were yellowing like the pages of many a tome in the Hogwarts Library. 

When Albus arrived at the great oak doors, a harried middle aged woman opened it almost immediately and brusquely bade him to follow her down a series of mind boggling twists and turns as they made their way through the belly of the castle. He would have felt disoriented if he hadn’t known this place better than the back of his own hand. 

When they arrived at the entrance to the headmaster’s office, the irritable matron reluctantly murmured “Grindylow”, as though she felt that Albus should not be trusted. The gargoyle stepped aside with an uncomfortable grinding sound of stone on stone. 

With a dismissive gesture from the witch he made his way up the spiral staircase to the head’s office, and, with a knock passed through the doorway. 

Seated at a desk on a slightly raised platform in the centre of the room, a short, aged man was writing furiously. Albus could tell that something was amiss with Dippet by the increasingly wild quill movements across the- now flimsy-looking- parchment. 

Dippet barely looked up, gesturing Albus to come closer and mumbling in a thick Scottish accent. “I understand you are a former student of the school Mr Dumbledore. I am told Hogwarts sticks in the memory, as if the building itself is clinging on to you. “

Dumbledore was taken aback for a moment, this was unexpected… was it some kind of test? What was he supposed to say? “Yes, that is most certainly true, for me at least…”

“You and everyone my dear boy, now just take a seat and I’ll be with you in a minute. Budget cuts are never the most enjoyable...say, would you be more inclined to cut a little of the funding for Muggle Studies or Potions ingredients?”

Once again Albus began to panic, he had thought himself prepared, but Dippet seemed intent to test him so subtly. “I would deliberate carefully and then reach the conclusion that seemed to benefit the school mos-“

Dippet interrupted him with a sigh, “I was hesitant to see you at first.” Albus was stunned into silence. “You’re just approaching thirty years of age now, am I correct?” 

Albus could only nod. “People of your generation are all the same...superficial. You all have the same idea of why one should choose you of all the candidates. Should I ask you, you would simply mumble something about being a responsible and dynamic person who aims to inspire the young.” 

Albus was gobsmacked, it seemed he had underestimated Dippet somewhat. No matter, he still had a few cards up his sleeve. “And your generation is judgemental and unsympathetic, you constantly measure us against your parents, still blinded by that childlike adoration”. 

Dippet raised an eyebrow, “That’s certainly an interesting tactic, Mr Dumbledore. I wonder why you would jeopardise all your hard work in getting yourself into this office. Mr Gallinger is not a very subtle man.”

“I don’t know what you mea-“Albus was cut off within seconds.

“I am not a fool. I know how much you desire this position, and I will admit that you are one of the most intelligent applicants. But you make a mistake in believing that you can bamboozle everyone. As my dear mother said, no one knows anything until they’ve reached the age of thirty. And you Mr Dumbledore are not yet thirty

There is no need for inane questions with you, allow me to reveal my thoughts. A young man who is arrogant enough and intelligent enough to manipulate his friend into getting him a job interview, wishes to teach in a school. Schools contain children. Children are somewhat impressionable. Most wizards and witches in the British isles attend Hogwarts. Children grow up to be adults who can vote. If they’ve all been molded into a certain way of thinking they will make decisions according to their mindset and therefore tip the balance of Wizarding elections. Then, when there are enough of these former students voting, suddenly they are forced to choose between a deceitful politician and good old Professor Dumbledore. I wonder who they would rather support?”

Albus sat stiffly on his chair, his mouth hanging open slightly. Was he really so transparent? 

“On the other hand, you are by all accounts, one of the strongest wizards of our age. And I am very much aware of your intentions, so I will be able to keep a watchful eye on you. Within these walls you are manageable, who knows what you would become outside of them. Some kind of puppet master.

Congratulations, Mr Dumbledore, you have convinced me. Term starts on September 1st, be here by 7 in the evening at the latest.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gellert Grindelwald drinks bad coffee.

Gellert Grindelwald sat under a great sun shade, sipping his watery coffee. It was crowded in the seating area outside, all foreigners and no wonder; the cafe was a pathetic Muggle place, a tourist trap that no Austrian worth their salt would look twice at. Oh look at him! Ten years since he left England and still he uses their silly sayings! He glanced at the watch Albus had given him. God that blasted Hungarian was late! He just had to be late today of all days. It had been years since he had been in his motherland, and for good reason too. It had been stupid to come here after everything that had happened in Hallstatt. Hallstatt...his home town, it had been so long. The blue tipped mountains that stood guard on all sides and the scattered breadcrumb cottages, their foundations carved into the side of the tallest mountain by his forefathers. Oh how he remembered the summer Sunday mornings when his Mother would take his and Lotte’s hands and they would walk along the cobbled streets to heed the call of the church bell. He remembered, there was a steep hill just before the yellow church, but when they reached the top they could see Hallstatt in all its bright and green glory, overlooking the lake of the same name. It was beautiful, the village, the closeness of the people, the simplicity of muggle life. In those first months after Harfang Munter and the caretakers had come for him, he had envied it. He had dreamed of it night and day. 

The clatter of a teaspoon being dropped dragged him from his reverie. Gellert knew he had to focus, focus on finding that damn Hungarian. Besides, Hallstatt was a small village, he was in Vienna, it was extremely unlikely that any of the 500 or so residents would journey here, not after generations of staying in Upper Austria. It was doubtful if any had even bothered to leave the village. And even if someone did come to Vienna, it was a big city. 

15 minutes had passed and Gellert at long last got to his feet and was about to leave, when at last Mészáros arrived. He was an ungainly half blood who managed to move with wild speed despite the impression that his legs were simultaneously too long and short for his upper body. The Hungarian plonked himself down on a chair at Gellert’s table. 

“I have been waiting here for 45 minutes. You have the nerve to summon me from my business in Ukraine and then you dare show up late? If were not so interested in what news you bring, I would have cursed you by now.” Gellert hissed, settling back into his seat. 

“Apologies, Mr Grindelwald. This is extremely sensitive information. It has taken weeks to gather.” Mészáros murmured sheepishly. 

Gellert sighed, his frustration dissipating, and gestured to the owner. The surly man plodded over and refilled Gellert’s cup and poured coffee into Mészáros’. “Tell me, my friend, what news do you have for me?”

Mészáros leaned closer, “The Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated in Sarajevo by a Serbian nationalist group.” 

Gellert scoffed, “Muggle news? This is why you called me here?”

“It is unwise to dismiss any information no matter where it comes from.” Mészáros retorted stiffly, “This Archduke was the heir presumptive and had a vast influence over the military. If you bothered to keep up with your country's politics, you would know that.”

Gellert was losing his patience, and began to drum his fingers against the table. “Is there a point to all this?”

“Indeed. A friend of a friend is employed in the Hofburg palace. I have it on good authority that the emperor may declare war on Serbia. Which will result in Russia stepping in, forcing Germany to do the same. France has an alliance with Russia and so they will be involved. And who knows which countries will follow them into war! It’s a disaster!”

“Good. Whatever is bad for them is good for us. Now, that item I asked you to procure for me?”

Mészáros shivered, “You really think that cursed wand will do any good?” 

Gellert Grindelwald gave a short laugh that formed into a toothy smile. “But I will not use the wand for just any good, I will use it for the Greater Good.” 

Desperation seeped from the poor Hungarian as he leaned forward, “We both know the tale of the three brothers well. I know only brief segments of the wand’s past, but I must warn you, they are horrific. I am sure you will become a great man one day, but I beg you, be great without the wand. ” 

“Don’t think I haven’t considered the risks. The fools who tried to master the wand before were weak and so looked for a way to be strong. But I am already strong, so I look for a way to become immortal. Now, tell me what you have found or leave!”

“There have been whispers of such a wand. My spider’s web of contacts has been trembling for some time. They say a wand maker has come into possession of it and intends to replicate it. His name is Mykew Gregorovich.”


	4. Fiendfyre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blast from the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, this chapter has depictions of the Christian religion that in no way represent my or anyone else’s opinion. This work is pure fiction that I’m making up as I go along. Enjoy 😊

It was already getting dark when the evening service finished. Papa was coming home tonight and Mama had waited in hope that he would return in time for even song. He did not, and so Mama had told them to get into their Sunday best and off they went to church. Mama had been agitated that day, muttering under her breath about how improper it was to miss any child’s birthday, let alone Gellert’s 11th. Despite the absence of Papa the day had been one of the best ever, in Gellert’s opinion. 

Mama had borrowed a lantern from the priest so they could see a few paces in front as they went down the hill. Lotte was hanging off Mama’s arm, her hair filled with wildflowers and her eyes filled with sleep. It seemed all that five year old energy had been expended, (or maybe it was because Father Lukas had a boring voice and had been speaking for almost an hour straight). 

Gellert, on the other hand, had been reinvigorated by their departure from the heavy air of the chapple. It was a distinct scent of dust and damp mingling with the incense. He was bounding around to the tune of a slow hymn Mama was humming under her breath. 

Suddenly, out of nothing, three men appeared with a loud pop. They wore big, fur-lined coats with some kind of insignia stamped over their hearts. The two men either side were young, they could not be older than 17 with stony faces devoid of emotion . Each tightly gripped the chain collar of a snarling grey wolf. The man in the centre wore a Russian fur cap, his black snow-smothered beard reached his stomach. Beady black eyes darted from side to side until they settled on Gellert. 

Mama stepped forward, yanking Gellert and Lotte behind her. “What do you want? You have no reason to come here.” Mama growled. She could be scary when she wanted to be, how else could she have been on the village council? 

But these men did not cower and the one on the left responded, “We have reason, squib Your son’s magic has matured, he must be relocated and dealt with appropriately.” 

“Why are you here then, Harfang Munter? Muggleborns are not permitted in Durmstrang.” 

Finally, the man in the centre spoke, “Ah, but Gellert isn’t a mudblood. Is he, Lena Grindelwald?”

Mama stood her ground, gritting her teeth. “I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else, my name is Lena Muller.”

Munter ignored her and continued forward menacingly. “You know, it’s funny, I distinctly remember an Austrian pureblood family with the name, Grindelwald. I suppose it is merely a coincidence, strange though, it’s hardly a common name.”

“I have already told you, my name is Lena Muller!” Mama cried, a note of desperation entering her voice. 

“Yes it is, now that you’ve lowered yourself to marry a muggle. Even with your magic sealed away, I can still recall your face.” 

A look if wild conviction appeared on Mama’s face. She turned her back on the men and bent down to her son’s height. “You cannot have him. Run! Run Gellert!” 

He stood frozen, looking at her with wide eyes for a spilt second and then be began to run. He didn’t know in which direction he ran. All he felt was the ground reverberating through his body. He didn’t even look back. Suddenly he found himself in front of the church. He remembered that Mama had told him that this was a holy place, that evil could not enter here. Those men must be evil to frighten Mama like that. Gellert pushed the oak doors of his refuge open and padded down the aisle between the pews on aching legs, instinctively heading for the large crucifix on the wall behind the altar.. His hurried little 11 year old feet shook from adrenaline with every step. In the silence, Gellert’s every move was deafening as it echoed through the cold building. He slowed to a halt shivering, this place felt empty and distant without the humm of mass and the priest’s voice ringing through the very foundations. 

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footfalls and the voices of men approaching the sanctuary. He listened as they came closer and he realised with a sickly lump in his throat that these people were not stopping at the sight of the church. Quick as a flash, he ran towards the altar and lifted the finely made cloth to crawl underneath it. 

With a bang, the doors swung open and three sets of heavy boots and two sets of paws came across the threshold. The footsteps started down the isle at a tauntingly slow pace. “Come out little boy, we know you’re here. We had a talk with your Mother, she changed her mind. We promise we won’t hurt you.” They waited for a second to see if he was stupid enough to reply. Gellert almost felt insulted. He was young, not stupid. He had just turned 11 so he was practically a man now anyway! “It’s not very brave to hide and put your mother and little sister at risk you know. And you’re 11 now too, such a big boy, almost a man now.”  
They were almost at the altar now and they drew nearer with every second. Gellert’s heart began beating so fast he thought it would jump from his mouth, there was a strange pressure forming behind his eyes and crushing his very being. How did they know? It was almost as if they had read his thoughts! Who were these men? What was happening? Munter laughed as if he had heard. “Come out little coward, come and face the big bad men. Come out or we will torch your little town to the ground and burn every one in their sleep.” 

Gellert couldn’t bear it any longer. He had to stop the men, he had to get this thing out of his head. Slowly he clambered out from under the cloth to find that the men were much closer than he had anticipated. For some reason this angered him beyond rationality, The weight instead his skull was getting heavier and heavier, he felt incredible heat spiderwebbing in his veins and an intense itch beneath his skin. He looked the men in the eye and whispered in a changed voice. “No. I will burn you.”

Flames spewed in every direction from his very skin, jumping from pew to pew, climbing the stone walls to the roof. Gellert had fallen to his knees in fear before the altar and muttered the lord’s prayer. It was strange, he could almost have sworn he saw the shape of monstrous serpent thrashing against the confining space of the building with its blazing tail. Within seconds the entire stone building was aflame. The men looked upon the scene with wide smoke-stung eyes and waved strange sticks to create shields of air. Their wolves were not so lucky, the sickly scent of fur burning wafted in the air. The building began to groan as its supporting timbers were consumed by the fiery creature. The serpent had now taken to butting it’s alight fang filled maw against the men’s shields, cracks appearing with every blow. There was a groaning sound as a piece of timber gave way. And then Gellert saw only darkness. He didn’t know how long he was floating through that darkness. All he could recall was a voice. Your name is no longer Gellert Muller. You are Gellert Grindelwald. 

Gellert Grindelwald woke up covered with sweat and tears, practically stuck to his sheets. Shit. Why was it so hot in here? He looked around the room for a second in confusion. he had almost forgotten he was in Belgium. This was a hotel room, of course. He had arrived here early yesterday. It had been so easy to track down Gregorovitch. He should have recognised the name when he first heard it Gregorovitch as in Gregorovitch Zauberstäbe, one of the largest wand companies in Europe. It was based here in Belgium, so naturally this was where to find Gregorovitch. 

Gellert made a grab for his coat which was hanging on the door. He rummaged in the pockets until his hand closed around the thin wood of the elder wand. Carefully he brought it out into the light and gasped. It was beautiful. The dark wood. Every decorative bump. And the feeling of holding it, if he had been religious he would have called it divine. It was power and fury and temptation and the first step on the road to immortality. It was everything. And there it was, resting in his hand. The thing he and Albus had searched for. This power would allow him to do everything he had ever wanted. Weaker men had died from the wand’s power and humanity’s greed, but Gellert was stronger; after all, he had burned down a church with fiendfyre using only his accidental magic. He was better. He would fulfill his dreams for a better world, he would fulfill Albus’ dreams. Even if Albus didn’t love him anymore, Gellert had never stopped loving Albus. Merlin, he regretted that day. reaming of that hateful memory had been a relief compared to leaving Albus every night in his dreams. If he couldn’t have Albus he would have the world as compensation.


	5. The joys of teaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus meets Leta and Newt.

Albus Dumbledore was beginning to regret using his vast talents to become a teacher. He especially regretted it this morning. 

He’d begun the day with a fitful night’s rest and a pepper up potion. He’d also overslept as a result, which meant he had missed breakfast and had to sprint to make it to his first period transfiguration lesson. All in all, it was a bad start to the day, especially since his first period lesson was with the fifth year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. 

But this really took the biscuit. Albus rubbed his temple in rhythmic circles and sighed. “Miss Lestrange, Mr Scamander would you mind telling me what on earth possessed you to bring an adolescent hippogriff into the school?” Albus looked down at the two first years from his desk and nearly regretted his harsh tone. Merlin what was he doing in a school? He didn’t know anything about children or how to deal with them. And why, oh why had he accepted the request to become the head of house for Gryffindor? 

Dippet looked up from his paperwork, “Ah, Albus my boy. Come in, come in.” Albus reluctantly made his way into the office, he had been at Hogwarts for almost a month. An entire month of scrutiny and distrust from Dippet and by extension, all of his most loyal staff members. 

“Did you need something, Headmaster?”

“Indeed. Take a seat Albus. I heard about the duel between Kingsley and Greengrass, you did well breaking it up. They’re like charging bulls once they get going, thank god they’re seventh years.

In light of your actions, I feel you deserve a promotion.” 

Albus gaped, “A promotion?” 

“Just so, I’ve been needing a new Gryffindor head of house. Think of it as a test of your teaching abilities. From what I’ve heard you do well under pressure.” The old man remarked with a sly smile. Albus new better than to believe him. The headmaster kept him around because he found him entertaining. This was a test of his trustworthiness. Of course he would accept the position. His pride would not allow anything else. 

Albus jolted back into the present with a start, realising he had been staring into space. “Go on, explain yourselves.” 

The two first years shared a glance. One was a tall girl with dusky skin and dark curls. The other a short boy with ginger hair and an awkward demeanour. The boy began stuttering something before the girl cut him off. “It was my fault. I made Newt bring it into the castle.” Leta Lestrange blurted out. 

Newt cut in, “I’m the one who found it!” Albus almost smiled, children were so stubbornly loyal.

“I see. Mr Scamander, where did you find this hippogriff?” The only place on school grounds that they could’ve found such a beast was the Forbidden Forest. An area that was funnily enough, forbidden to students. 

“The Forbidden Forest.” Newt turned red, as he realised the implications of what he had said. 

“The poor thing had hurt his wing, so we had to help him. We had a really comfortable hiding place for him too. We were going to get him food at lunch but Professor Slughorn kept us behind because I spilled my potion. He only ran into the great hall because he was hungry. Leta piped up. “Please don’t expel Newt! 

Albus felt his insides warm, nevertheless he reigned in his smiles and tried to appear stern. “While I applaud your compassion, you must consider how dangerous bringing a wild creature into a place full of children. You will not be expelled, but make no mistake such actions in the future will not be tolerated. You will have a week of detention with me and Gryffindor will lose fifty points. You may both leave. 

The students exchanged a glance and apologised in unison. 

Albus smiled as they left his office. Perhaps being a teacher wasn’t so bad after all.


	6. Return to Durmstrang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to be honest, I have no idea where this is going. Comment if you want me to include a prompt or pairing, thx 😊

Gellert Grindelwald had hated Durmstrang. The morning after the fire, he had woken to find himself on the floor of an ice cold cell. There had actually been frost on his feet and hands. Soon after he had woken, a young man had come in, carrying a tray of grey sludge which he set down on the floor next to Gellert. “Get up Grindelwald, I will only explain things once so listen carefully. Gellert remained motionless. “Are you stupid? I said get up!”

Gellert shook his head, “My name is Gellert Muller.”

“No you little shit. If I say you are Grindelwald, your name is Grindelwald.” The boy’s heavy boot came down on Gellert’s arm, pressing down with every word. “Get up!” 

Whimpering, Gellert got to his feet, clutching at his arm. “This is how it works, you have magic. You are a half blood wizard who has been taken to Durmstrang Institute for training. As you have no money in your name so you will have second hand possessions. Do you understand?” The boy waited for a minute. “When I ask you a question, you will answer with a ‘yes sir’, ‘yes Mr Novak’ or ‘yes prefect’.” 

“Yes sir.” Gellert responded. 

The boy nodded his head in approval and then took out thin three sticks from his pocket. “Try the wands. You will have to make do with one of these for now.”

Gellert tentatively reached forward and picked up a wand. It was cold and lifeless in his hand. Novak tuted, “Next.”

The next wand warmed slightly in his grasp, a small comfort in the icy dungeon. “That one will be fine.” Novak replaced the other two in his pocket and drew out his own. “But remember this, boy, we are giving this to you out of the kindness of our hearts,” the boy’s tone was mocking. “But if you pull any more of that fiendfyre shit, it will be taken away and snapped,” A grin bloomed on his face, “Or maybe even worse.” 

Novak flicked his wand and school robes and a schedule appeared. “Classes start at 7:00, don’t be late. And with that he was gone. 

Almost twenty years later, Gellert Grindelwald stood on a mountain staring down at the soulless battlements of Durmstrang Institute. It was surrounded by mountains and a moat filled with water monsters and a body or two. The castle itself was built from dark volcanic rock. During his time here, he had heard rumours that the place was built on a dormant volcano. It would certainly explain the smell of sulfur in the bowels of the structure. 

He sighed, this hell had been his prison for six years and now he was coming back of his own volition. Merlin, if his sixteen year old self could only have seen him now. Here he was years after he had escaped from the place. Well been expelled. It was the same thing really. It had almost seemed like a miracle at the time. And here he was crawling back on his knees, begging for guidance. He reminded himself that it was a means to an end. That it was a necessary evil. After all, he had no clue on how to go about setting his plan into motion, he’d only ever thought getting the wand and what he would do with it. He didn’t know how he would gain the support and followers he needed. At least he had some insurance for dealing with the old man. The idea still rankled, but he was a big boy and he could do what was needed, damn his pride. 

Gellert took a deep breath and swept through the familiar halls into Harfang Munter’s office, closing the door behind him. “It was certainly a surprise to get your letter, Grindelwald. I didn’t think you would have the nerve to show up.” 

“Thank you for seeing me Professor Munter.” Came the frigid reply. 

“Nothing more to say? You leave me to wonder at your presence. Was it not you who practiced galvanism on half the school and skipped merrily away into the sunset at the news of your expulsion?” 

“Yes sir. It was.”

“Then please enlighten me, I cannot conceive why you are here.”

“I was rash in my younger days and did not take full advantage of the opportunities that were offered to me. I have come to regret the decisions I made. I would like to make amends and give any assistance I can, in return for a little advice.” Gellert weighed each word on his tongue, he understood how Munter operated. What had he revealed to the headmaster? How much had he managed to conceal? 

Munter laughed intrusively, “I wonder, oh the answer is so hard, should I give the student who continuously attempted to kill me for six years some friendly advice? Guess my answer. I knew you were a crazy bastard as soon as I saw you. A powerful crazy bastard. But still a crazy bastard. I should hand you over to the muggle police, they’re still looking for the Berlin Butcher over in Germany. “

Gellert leaned forward, “that would be very stupid indeed, sir.”

Munter chuckled, “are you making a threat Grindelwald, you must forgive me for I am out of practice. Funnily enough most of my students don’t think it wise to do so.”

“What would be the point of handing me over, when we both know I could easily escape muggles? No, it would be a mere delay before I revealed to the public that a fearsome dark lord was the guardian of their children.” The dark lord in question stiffened and the light atmosphere evaporated. 

“I see. What advice did you wish to extract from me?”

Gellert drew in a deep breath. “How did you do it? I want to be great, but I do not know where to start.”

Munter snorted, “So you are asking me for Dark Lord lessons?”

“Yes.”


	7. An Errand Boy’s Observation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus is sent to introduce an orphan to the wizarding world.

Albus Dumbledore plodded up the spiral stairs to Dippet’s office. It had been a year since his employment at the school, and much to Albus’ annoyance, these meetings with Dippet were practically a regular fixture in his diary. What could that cantankerous old man possibly want a few weeks before the beginning of term?

“Headmaster.”

“Good evening, my boy. My apologies for calling you here so late.”

“What is it you wish to discuss with me? Sir?” Dumbledore warily ventured. 

“I need someone to introduce the Muggleborns into our society. You will visit each of them and pass on their letters.”

Albus nodded apathetically, he was used to being Dippet’s errand boy by now. He was actually glad he had been assigned this task, what better opportunity to root himself into the lives of his students? 

Several days later, Albus found himself gingerly making his way through muggle London. Albus Dumbledore didn’t get nervous. He had stood before classmates and politicians and delivered revolutionary speeches without raising an eyebrow. And yet, as he stood outside the grey building of Wool’s Orphanage, he couldn’t help but feel his gut roil in disconcertion. There was something suffocating and oppressive in the air, he couldn’t decide whether it was the foul stink of the factories a few streets away or the gloom of the winter morning, but Albus knew he didn’t like it. 

He took a step and almost stumbled, each step felt like he was wading through rich maple syrup. He shivered at the realisation that this could be the work of rogue wizards in the area. Nevertheless, he would visit the child first and deal with the dissenters later. 

Albus came closer to the paint chipped door, hesitantly raising a gloved fist to the wood. It was a tall, narrow building halfheartedly reaching for the smog hanging in the air. As though it had been constructed full of ambitions, but as weather and teather left their imprints on its walls, those ambitions had crumbled as the roof seemed to verge on doing. A short while later, a young girl opened the door and beckoned him inside. Her face was one painted by poverty and drawn with hunger, “Mrs Cole!” The girl cried into the ramshackle gloom. 

A heavy-looking woman emerged from the end of the corridor waving him into the squat room which served as an office. Inside, the woman sunk down into a rickety chair behind a desk. “So Mr...um..-”

“Dumbledore.”

“So Mr Dumbleedoor, how can I help you?” Came the matron’s inquiry, her eyes darting to and fro in constant self-interested calculation.   
“I have been sent from an academic institution named Hogwarts, which is an establishment which seeks to allow its pupils to reach a standard of excellence.” Albus paused there for a few seconds in order to ascertain his host’s expression. It was one of confusion and a glint of ambition. 

“If you beg my pardon Mr Dumbleedore, I still have no idea what this has to do with Wool’s. Is your institution hoping to make a donation to the orphanage?” The woman gabbled eagerly. 

“No, Mrs Cole. As delightful as that would have been. No. I am here to interview a child who has been perceived to be a promising candidate for our school. A Tom Riddle?”

The plump face suddenly turned ashen, the eyeballs seemed to swivel at such a speed that they seemed almost ready to pop out of their sockets. Hands which seemed to shake with fear or anger instinctively reached for a cabinet behind the Matron drawing from it a bottle of whiskey and a glass and setting them down on the desk with a jerky thump. She took the cork from the bottle and poured it with practiced ease. And then, suddenly glancing down, she woke from her stupor as if only now becoming conscious of the bottle in her hand.  
“I hope you don’t mind if I have a little drink?” 

“Of course not Mrs Cole.” Albus smiled genially waving off her offer for him to join her in the process of emptying the bottle.

“Thank you, sir. I find one often needs a drink when discussing Tom Riddle.” She shivered. “I hope you know that the boy has not a ha’penny to his name and we, charitable organisation though we are cannot afford to pay for his tutorage.”

“There is no need to pay. Generous alumni of Hogwarts have made provisions so that even the less wealthy pupils may afford to attend and be provided with the necessary equipment.” 

Mrs Cole’s features seemed to brighten a little before resuming their original greyness. “Where is this Hogwarts? I’ve never heard of it. I’m afraid if it is far away we will not be able to afford the travel costs of the boy going up and down the country every day.”

“All travel costs will be paid for by the same means as his textbooks and uniform; besides, Hogwarts is a boarding school, though students may return during the holidays.”

Again, that ream of concern coated her and to assuage it she took another great gulp of Whiskey. “Must he return each holiday?”

Albus smiled calmly, “By no means. He must only return here during the summer, while the school is closed. Is there any reason you wish him not to return?”

Mrs Cole flushed at being caught out in such a way and in awkward and reluctant tones muttered, “W-well t-there is s-something that you should know...about Tom. He-he is -he is not a bad child precisely…” Albus could see that she was reluctant to say more lest the school reject him. “He is… something odd, I can’t quite describe it. He has not done anything, anything that can be proven anyway. He just- just...things go wrong around him, things go missing, children fall down- they are scared of him sir, though they do not say why, no one will share a room with him though god knows there are four to a bed in some rooms. And there was the case of little Billy’s rabbit hanging itself, Billy had been brawling with Tom the day before...it’s nothing solid...just suspicion.

Albus did not react, he simply asked to be led to Tom. The little girl from earlier materialised to do so. With every step he took, the feeling of walking through syrup from outside increased tenfold. The oppressive air seemed to rally, almost feeling solid in Albus’ lungs, the smell of dust, damp and mould filling them. The girl stopped on the second floor and refused to go any further, so Albus climbed the final flight of stairs alone. He counted the doors on that floor as he went, 1, 2, 3, 4 and so on until he stopped at door 7, the young wizard’s lair. There could be no doubt, there were no rogue wizards here, it was as he had feared. All this heaviness in the air, and all of the magical signatures he had detected belonged to a single child. The thought chilled him to the bone, how could power like this exist at the same time as Gellert Grindelwald’s? Surely it was too much, to have two such powerful beings in coexistence? He supposed that the same could be said of himself and Grindelwald, but his power had never been like this, never so hostile, never so malignant as this child’s. Could this thing truly be called a child? A creature who could terrorise an orphanage at ten? Who could terrorise a world at maturity? The thought was terrifying. He tentatively raised his hand to knock. What kind of monster awaited him in there?


End file.
